


the dads are all right

by MusicalLuna



Series: Superdads [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Flux-Verse, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Parent Tony Stark, Universe Alteration, parenting, superdads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9677849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: It's scary when you're young and your dad gets hurt.





	

Tony breathes in sharply through his nose and nine-year-old Peter falters in the doorway to his dads’ bedroom, pulling Mister Waddles tighter to his chest. He swallows hard, wincing a little when Tony lets slip a noise of distress as Steve helps him sit on the bed, murmuring encouragement.

“Okay, there, breathe. Tony. Come on, breathe.”

He finally does, shakily. After a few, he says, choked-sounding, “Ow, fuck. Steve—”

“I know,” his dad says and Peter can see Tony’s fingers turning white around Steve’s hand, he’s holding on so hard. There’s gauze wrapped all around his stomach and it looks clean and perfect. It’s hiding something bad.

Tony takes a few more ragged breaths and then Steve puts one hand around the back of his neck, tugs the pillows into place with the other. “Ready?”

“As ’m ever gonna be,” Tony mutters. He does his best to relax as Steve presses him back, still cradling his head, but he can’t seem to make the muscles in his stomach cooperate and he spits out a string of curses Steve would normally snap at him for. He says nothing now, his mouth tight and straight, eyes shadowed.

Peter bites his lip until it hurts.

“Shit,” Tony says when he’s finally on his back and he sounds the way Peter does when he’s starting to cry. It scares him.

“You’re okay,” Steve says, and presses his palm down very carefully over the top edge of the bandages. “Breathe.”

Peter isn’t the one he’s talking to, but he listens anyway, taking wet, gulping breaths. He can’t seem to drag his eyes away from it, from the way his dad’s chest hitches, noises catching in his throat for what feels like forever.

“Okay,” he breathes finally, hoarse like he’s been yelling: “Okay, that wasn’t so bad.”

Steve snorts, clearly disbelieving, but he starts to look less worried and that makes Peter feel a little better. Then he remembers Peter and he looks up, fear flashing across his face. “Hey, Peter, buddy, come on, it’s okay.”

Tony sucks in a breath and his head comes up. Peter sees a glimpse of his expression twisting, then his head’s dropping back down, a high, whimpering sound slipping out of his mouth.

“ _Dad!”_ Peter says, stepping forward automatically, and he can feel his eyes starting to prickle. “Don’t,” he begs.

Steve leaves him, coming to pull Peter into his arms, and Peter stares at him incredulously, pushes him away.

“No, don’t, I’m _fine_ , Dad, go back to him, I’m okay,” Peter says, but he knows he’s not being very convincing because he’s crying now.

“Peter,” Steve says and drags him into a hug. That’s pretty much it for Peter. He grabs on and buries his face in Steve’s collar, crying so hard it makes his chest hurt.

“Aw, Peter,” Tony says from the bed, still rough, but worried, too.

“It’s okay, your dad’s going to be fine. He’s banged up and he’s going to be smarting for awhile, but he’s going to be okay, Pete. Shh.”

And Peter understands that, he does, but _his dad_.

Steve climbs into the bed and Peter tries to stop, wipes his face with both sleeves, but it’s useless. He starts to crawl out of Steve’s grip to go to Tony when he realizes he probably shouldn’t touch him and he pulls back.

“No, no,” Tony says, fingers grabbing at Peter’s wrist, “it’s all right, come on, Squirt.” He lifts his arm and waves and Peter looks at him, dubious as he can, until Tony huffs and says, “I’m fine, promise, c'mere. I’m not asking you for a bear hug.”

“Careful of the bandages,” Steve tells him and Peter nods, picks his way gingerly out of Steve’s lap, and lets Tony curl his arm around him and pull him in, his face pressed into his dad’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Tony mutters and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“Y-you’re really gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, bud,” Tony says. “Good as new in no time.”

Peter snivels and nods and presses himself up against his dad as carefully as he can, then reaches back for Steve’s hand. When Steve takes it, he tugs him forward.

Dad kisses the back of his head and shifts until Peter’s surrounded by him, solid and huge and safe.

“I love you, Dad,” he whispers into Tony’s shoulder.

His voice sounds thick and rough again when he says, “Yeah, we love you, too, Pete.”


End file.
